


Baby, Buried Things Will Surface (No Matter What)

by Nevcolleil



Series: Buried Things [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Implied Longing, M/M, Voyeurism, pre-Angus MacGyver/Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil
Summary: It takes a very specific combination of circumstances to make it happen.Either way, as soon as Mac comes close enough to Jack’s bedroom to see through the open bedroom door... He doesn’t take another step forward.And, somehow, he can’t seem to think to take a step back.





	Baby, Buried Things Will Surface (No Matter What)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from... but this morning it demanded to be written.
> 
> Title from the back cover of Cailyn Siehl's "What We Buried".

It’s the kind of accident that shouldn’t happen. This is real life, not- Not some kind of soap opera... Or some B-rated movie. (Or a film of an entirely _different_ kind.)

It takes a very specific combination of circumstances to make it happen.

Jack’s not answering his phone. Jack _never_ doesn’t answer his phone, even this late at night, when they’re in-between missions. (New phone. Defective charger. Jack didn’t know.)

Mac got the call, and he also got the message that Jack isn’t responding to _Matty’s_ calls - and that, more than anything, gets Mac’s adrenaline pumping, his brain processing item after item off of a mental list of everything that could have gone wrong since he and Jack parted ways just that morning.

Come to think of it... Mac hasn’t heard from Jack _since_ they parted ways that morning. And that’s.

That’s _normal_ , right? Normal people- They don’t have to hear from a friend, a loved one - a partner - every several hours to not jump to dire conclusions when-

But it’s not typical of him and Mac. 

Mac was going to knock on Jack’s door. He was. But _it’s already open_.

It’s the middle of the night. Jack isn’t answering his phone. _His door is open_ -

(Broken latch. Jack hadn’t noticed when he and his date stumbled into his apartment. He’d pushed the door shut - activated the alarm. The latch had broken a few days ago, but the landlord’s kid was supposed to have fixed that; Jack didn’t think anything more of it. He got a state of the art alarm system after that time he got robbed. It’dve let him know when he tried to turn it on if there was something wrong with the door, right?)

(Wrong.)

Mac strides through Jack’s door, the worst of the scenarios on his mental list of worst case scenarios filling his brain and strangling his voice. He doesn’t even call out for Jack as he heads for the most likely spot in Jack’s apartment for him to be found, if he’s there to be found.

And then Mac freezes in his tracks.

As soon as he comes close enough to Jack’s bedroom to see through the open bedroom door...

He doesn’t take another step forward. Although, somehow, he can’t seem to think to take a step back.

Jack sits naked on top of his bed, sheets and covers and even a pillow hanging half off of the bed or lying on the floor altogether - a testament to how little attention Jack - and the woman sitting naked on top of _him_ \- paid to anything besides each other when they ended up here.

Suddenly, Mac registers the sounds he’s been hearing since he took two steps into the apartment - still too panicked to process them.

He hears them now at full strength. Jack’s ragged breaths, his soft grunts... The woman’s near continuous moans punctuated, again and again, by an occasional little cry.

The way they move together is no enigma. Mac’s had sex before. He’s had sex in that specific position - both ways. He’s sat, as Jack is sitting now, with Nikki straddling his thighs... And he’s ridden a lover, just like Jack’s apparent date is riding him.

(Mac isn’t entirely inexperienced with men, even if he did stop exploring that side of his sexuality after he joined the army. Back in college, he dated a guy whose favorite thing in bed was for Mac to ride him like that.)

Maybe it’s those memories that root Mac to the spot where he stands? Shock and too much time since he’s experienced that kind of pleasure for himself...

But that doesn’t explain why Mac barely looks at the woman bouncing on top of Jack’s lap. He notices her short blonde hair only because Jack seems to have one hand fisted in the back of it - it trails over the tanned skin and defined muscles of Jack’s forearm. Mac only notices her breasts because, as he watches, Jack ducks his head and takes one nipple between his lips, and the woman cries out, more sharply than before.

“Yeah... there you go, baby,” Mac hears Jack let go of her nipple with a wet pop and say, in a sex-rough voice that probably shouldn’t travel the path to Mac’s cock that it travels so quickly. Not if the reason Mac’s standing here, almost involuntarily, having accidentally walked in on his partner ( _work_ partner) and best friend, is just surprise and sympathetic response. Arousal at the sight of two people enjoying one another sexually...

“J-Jack...” the woman stutters breathlessly - tellingly. 

Beneath her, Jack seems to be the one who picks up the pace. From where he stands, Mac can see the muscles in Jack’ back flex. In the light coming through Jack’s bedroom window, Mac sees a drop of sweat roll down the back of Jack’s neck-

Mac takes those two steps back - out of the line of sight. _Away_ from the sight he’s just witnessed - with almost as much adrenaline fueling his shaky steps as he’d walked in here with.

But not seeing doesn’t stop him from hearing. Or from imagining he can still see the things that he hears.

Jack and his lover speeding up, to the point that Mac can hear the slide of their bodies against Jack’s bedsheets, now that hearing is all he can do and his focus on what he’s hearing naturally sharpens- The quiet give and release of Jack’s mattress every time the woman lowers down onto Jack, a slight squeak of the bed’s frame when Jack rocks back up into her... The sounds of skin meeting skin.

The woman’s moaning has risen in volume, and rises still. And each of Jack’s grunts end in a quiet little gasp of pleasure or an almost whimper - the soft sounds sharp contrast to the near growl of his voice when he speaks again.

“Oh, yeah... _fuck_ yeah...”

There’s something surreal, for Mac, about hearing Jack’s date shout as he makes her come.

And that’s ultimately what snaps him out of his trance and gives Mac the power to do what he should have done immediately - walk out of Jack’s apartment and silently pull Jack’s front door shut as he does.

Because it’s not surreal. It’s _real_. Mac really stood there and watched Jack having sex. Listened in from the next room. What was he-

_How could he-_

What’s Mac supposed to do _next_? Wait by the door for Jack to walk his date out and awkwardly meet in the hall? Knock when enough time has passed that they may have cleaned up, perhaps dressed... 

Do Jack’s dates get dressed and leave once they’re... done, Mac wonders. Or do they _sleep_ with Jack after sleeping with him? It’s been a while since Jack’s even mentioned dating to Mac. Did he and one of those women he didn’t think he’d see again give things another try? Has he been sleeping with this woman for some time? Or has he really given up on dating, like he said, and just brings women home to-

Mac’s standing out on the landing of Jack’s floor of the apartment building before he’s consciously decided to wait outside to see if Jack will walk his date out tonight at all. 

Mac needs the air.

He needs the space.

Even after he hears the soft opening and closing of the door behind him and feels the displacement of air that means someone’s stepped out onto the landing with him - looks sideways just quick enough to see the woman headed down the stairs to his right. 

He can’t look at the top of her head without remembering how her hair had looked fanned out over Jack’s arm. Is that shade of blonde always going to bring that memory back to Mac when he sees it now? He can only hope not.

(It’s _Mac’s_ shade of blonde... Why did he let himself notice that?)

( _Why_ did he let himself _notice that_?)

Mac stands on the landing and breathes, for long moments after he hears the start and eventual distance of a car engine. 

Then he goes to knock on Jack’s door.

He lets work wait until he can face his partner again without everything new that he’s seen - everything old that it’s churned up - sitting right there in his eyes, as indefensible as an open door.


End file.
